


Feel the Burn

by Fuzzball457



Series: K-Pop One Shots [8]
Category: ASTRO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Allergic Reacion, Allergies, Concerned Hyungs, Gen, Yoon Sanha-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25695724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzball457/pseuds/Fuzzball457
Summary: Who knew you could develop allergies just like that?
Relationships: (it's all platonic), Yoon Sanha & Everyone, Yoon Sanha/Everyone
Series: K-Pop One Shots [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591903
Comments: 7
Kudos: 135





	Feel the Burn

**Author's Note:**

> This 100% inspired by that N. Flying vLive where Jaehyun was supposed to drink some tea/vinegar concoction as a punishment, but Hun took a sip first and realized it had ginseng in it, which Jaehyun can't have. Things could have been much worse and this fic is completely a reaction to that. (STAN N.FLYING!) 
> 
> This is not my most refined writing and the plot is nothing but indulgent H/C, but that's probably what you're here for anyway, so I hope you enjoy regardless :D
> 
> This work is part of a K-Pop multifandom hurt & comfort/angst series. Currently it includes: BTS, Got7, Astro, iKON, & Monsta X. I have works for Seventeen and NCT in progress and I'm also planning to include EXO, N.Flying, maybe Ateez or ACE. If you have any prompts you'd like to see, feel free to leave them in the comments!

It was just meant to be a game, a simple one at that. Six smoothies, each with one sneaky mystery ingredient, were lined up in front of them like little rainbow sentinels. There was a different color smoothie for each of them, all with the same strawberry-banana base. The goal was to guess the mystery ingredient mixed into their drink. They’d seen a list of fifteen possibilities, everything from vinegar to soy sauce to asparagus, so Sanha had felt confident he knew exactly what possibilities faced them.

Sanha was third. Reaching out, he snagged the yellow cup and gulped down half of it in one go. The smoothie was thick on his tongue, little lumps of strawberry and banana catching between his teeth. It was salty, but with a bit of a tangy aftertaste. It was similar to the buzz of overly strong mint toothpaste, something like a million tiny ants crawling around in his mouth. What on earth…?

Despite his uncertainty, he picked up his pen and paper with flourish and shot a grin at his hyungs. “Easy-peasy!” He winked at the camera for good measure. Next to him, Minhyuk groaned at Sanha’s confidence and reached out to drink his. They weren’t revealing their guesses until the end, to avoid using each other’s answers to knock of possibilities.

Returning to his sheet of paper, he rolled his tongue around his mouth a little more. The aftertaste was strong, much stronger than he’d first thought. His throat felt tight and hot. Something spicy then…kimchi was on the list, as was chili sauce.

He scratched at his chest absently before startling as the MC gave them a sixty second warning to finish up. When had Jinwoo, the last in line, finished his? Crap! Sanha glared as his blank paper before hastily scribbling down kimchi. Maybe the chunks were more than just strawberries and bananas? Maybe they were bits of kimchi that wasn’t chopped finely enough. Even with his earlier bravado, it didn’t really matter if he was way off. It’d only create a better opportunity for some funny dramatics.

That spice was really something though. Chili sauce might be a better guess. His throat still itched and swallowing didn’t seem to help at all. Maybe he could ask for a glass of water? He tugged at his collar a bit, surprised to find a few beads of sweat pooling along his collarbone. Was this ghost pepper chili or something? Jeez.

The MC was recapping the goal of the game, preparing to have the members reveal their answers one by one. Sanha looked down both sides of the table, Dongmin and Myungjun on his left, Minhyuk, Bin, and Jinwoo on his right. None of them looked like they were uncomfortable at all. They watched the MC with polite interest and eager smiles. Surely they had noticed the sudden jump in temperature? It couldn’t just be the smoothie, no way. His armpits were sweating enough that he was concerned it might show through his shirt. The temperature in the room had to have changed. Bin looked vaguely disgusted, but the mild frown on his mouth was nowhere near the discomfort Sanha was experiencing. Just crappy luck then, that'd he get such a bad smoothie while the others were unpleasant at worst. His throat was tight to the point of painful and the back of his mouth was still buzzing. Maybe it was prank? Maybe the game was rigged?

He looked desperately at Myungjun, wondering if he could subtly get the older’s attention and beg for some water. Spicy food had never been Sanha’s preference, but it had never been like this before. Whatever they’d put in that smoothie was lighting his mouth and throat on fire. At this point, he’d be willing to drink any and all of the other bizarre smoothies so long as they weren’t spicy. Something, anything to calm his throat down.

Just as he reached out to tug on Myungjun’s shirt, the MC stepped in front of them, bringing with him the eye of the camera.

“Ketchup is correct! Incredible job, Eunwoo-ssi! Next up, MJ-ssi, what is your guess?”

Crap, crap. Sanha dropped his head down to face the table as everyone turned to look at Myungjun on his left. Was it obvious how much he was struggling? The others would get a good laugh, for sure, but this was such an over the top reaction, it was embarrassing. He honestly wasn’t sure he could get a full sentence out and he was next. Swallowing felt like trying to force cement down his throat and it was only as he choked for a second that he realized how fast his breathing had become.

He only managed to count out two deep breaths before the MC turned expectantly to him. He hadn't even heard Myungjun speak...Sanha glanced up before quickly ducking his head back down when he couldn’t keep his mouth from twisting up.

“Everything alright? Not a very pleasant taste, is it, Sanha-ssi?” the MC asked with a polite smile.

A hand landed on his elbow. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he found Myungjun frowning at him in concern.

Well, if he’s already blown it, he’s already blown it, he thought. It wasn’t live. Dongmin and Myungjun could re-record their reveals and they could all pretend to be re-surprised to hear the results. It was hardly unheard of. Five minutes. He just needed five minutes.

Sanha shoved to his feet, chair nearly toppling behind him. He kept his face pointed directly at the ground and croaked out, “Sorry. I need-” His breath left him and his hand moved to fist his shirt before he could stop it.

“Sanha?” Myungjun asked, standing immediately and reaching for him.

“I’m fine,” he all but wheezed. “Just something…stuck,” he waved vaguely at his throat. “Excuse me, I’m sorry.” He bowed quickly towards the staff and MC before darting off the set towards the hallway that lead to their dressing room and the bathrooms.

Sanha bowled through the bathroom door, undoubtedly leaving a bruise on his shoulder and nearly tumbling to the ground.

He grabbed onto either side of the sink hard enough to turn his knuckles white, but it still almost wasn’t enough to keep him on his feet when he caught sight of himself. From the overly visible capillaries in his eyes to the apples of his cheeks and the sides of his ears, his face was flaming red. It crawled down his neck is amorphous patches and disappeared under the collar of his shirt. Sweat was slathered across his forehead and along his neckline. But the worst was the inside of his throat. It was just as angry on the inside as the red outside suggested. Trying to clear his mouth of a tablespoon or so of saliva felt like trying to down a cup of mashed potatoes. He pressed a hand to his throat just to feel his Adam’s apple bob to confirm he actually was swallowing. It certainly didn’t feel like it. The ants were still there too, a growing irritation in the back of his mouth. He wished he had a toothbrush or something similar to jam along the back of his mouth and scratch at the awful buzz.

Cupping his hands under the faucet, he tried pouring handfuls of lukewarm water down his throat. He was too impatient to let it get even the slightest bit cold. He needed relief now. It streamed out the sides of his mouth and down his chin, splattering across his shirt in visible splotches. But what did it matter if he had to change his shirt or let it dry out? He felt like he was dying of dehydration. He needed water _right now_ , everything else could come later. But even as the faucet got cooler, it provided no relief to his burning mouth. It felt sharp and painful against the back of his throat and he merely succeeded in nearly drowning himself as he choked and gagged. He bent forward under the force of his coughing, a new burn developing in his lungs as he struggled to recover.

Something is really wrong, he thought, trying to blink back the sudden tears his vicious coughing had produced. Something is really wrong and I need to get help right now.

Searing pain exploded across his knee caps as he hit the linoleum. His hands remained tight on the edges of the sink even as he went down, leaving him to dangle just shy of face planting into the plumbing below.

A knock came on the door, just as soft and unobtrusive as the voice that followed. “Sanha?” Dongmin by the sound of it. “Is everything okay? We need to get back to filming.”

“Help,” he called, but the sound barely left his lips, dropping to the ground in front of him and shattering on the scuffed bathroom floor. He choked on a sudden sob instead. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was going to die right here, right now in some studio bathroom with help standing three feet away on the other side of a plastic door.

“Sanha?” The handle jiggled and Dongmin let out a small sound of surprise as it opened. Of course he hadn’t locked it, he’d been a little busy trying to stay on his feet. “It was unlocked, I swear—oh my god!”

Dongmin dropped next to him, subjecting his thousand dollar trousers to a dingy, damp bathroom floor without second thought. One hand went to Sanha’s back, while the other went to his wrist, pulling it away from the sink so he could turn Sanha for a better look.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, eyes huge as he pressed closer.

Sanha could only shake his head. His blood was roaring in his ears, nearly drowning out the sound of his fierce breathing. Spit dripped from his gaping mouth, but he paid it no mind, trying to force his jaw open wider and wider as if that might ease the sandpaper burn of the air down his windpipe. There were tears too, thick and fast down his face, but his skin felt so hot and tight, they were barely noticeable.

Dongmin shoved backwards to his feet, unknowingly dodging the hand Sanha threw out to catch him. He didn’t want to be alone again. He didn’t want to die here, in pain and scared witless. But Dongmin only yelled something about an ambulance down the hall before appearing in front of him once more.

“C’n’t…b’the…” He croaked, clutching desperately at Dongmin shirt. Did he understand? Was help coming? Would Sanha die here?

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Dongmin chanted, pulling Sanha closer and turning him so his back was leaned up against Dongmin’s chest. “Try and breathe with me, okay? In…and out… just like that.” He had one hand on Sanha’s chest and one on his back. Sanha ignored his advice about breathing. It was too much, it was too hard. He let his head drop back on to Dongmin’s shoulder and closed his eyes. It was easier like that, the burn didn’t feel so bad.

“Hey.” Someone jostled his shoulder. “Hey, Yoon Sanha, stay awake. Hey!”

Sorry, he thought, and let the bathroom slip away from him.

#

It was cold when Sanha opened his eyes. It was such a blissful difference than the agonizing heat that engulfed his mind when he tried to recall what had happened. There was something in his memories about chili sauce, but he was pretty sure you couldn’t end up in the hospital from eating overly spicy food. Right?

“Sanha, baby, are you with us?”

Jinwoo was here. That was nice.

He dragged his eyes open, annoyed to find them dry and itchy as he blinked at the overhead light.

A hand landed softly on his shoulder. “Would you like the lights off?” Minhyuk was here too, reading his mind and his needs as well as ever.

He nodded, scrunching his eyes closed until the light directly overhead went off. There was another light on in the room, and evening sunlight streamed in from the left, so as he blinked the room into clarity, it was easy to make out the five figures in the room.

He was in a hospital bed, which was hardly a surprise. Jinwoo and Myungjun were on his right, pressed tightly together like Sanha wouldn’t know they were holding hands between them. The other three were on his left, evidently struggling between not crowding him and getting as close as possible to see for themselves he was awake.

“How do you feel?” Bin asked, reaching a hand out to squeeze his leg.

He hummed, taking a moment to sort through his body. Everything from the neck down felt entirely normal and if it weren’t for the fuzz in his head and the unnatural numbness in his throat and mouth, he’d swear that nothing was even wrong in the first place. There was a tingly coldness along the roof in the back of his mouth and he had to reach up to probe his lips to figure out if they were open or closed.

“They sprayed some sort of anesthetic thing in your mouth, so it might feel weird,” Dongmin explained softly. “But the doctor said it should wear off pretty quickly. You’ve only been out for about an hour.”

“An hour was more than enough,” Minhyuk grumbled, glaring at the ground.

“What happened?” Sanha asked, pulling a face at the broken, clumsy way the syllables came out of his barely cooperative lips.

“It was the coconut,” Myungjun said. “They added coconut milk to some of the smoothies to make them, you know, smoother. And you, apparently, have a coconut allergy.”

“I do?” he asked, searching the faces around him for confirmation. “I didn’t used to.” Surely he would have known, right? But it sure made sense. The burning in his throat right after…he’d attributed it to the spice at the time, but it’d been far more intense than that. It was his own body, betraying him in the worst way, overreacting to coconut of all things like it was a deathly poison.

Just the thought of the pain, the heat, was enough to make him shudder in the chilly hospital room.

“Yeah, but, like, when was the last time you had coconut?” Minhyuk asked. “Allergies can develop randomly, at pretty much any age, so maybe it’s been months or even years and you never knew.”

That was unsettling. How was he supposed to go about eating when any minute of any day he could suddenly be done in by something that had been fine the day before? God, what if it happened on a live broadcast? And what if—

“Hey,” Myungjun said, poking Sanha’s nose. “Stop. Adult allergies aren’t usually this severe. But if you’re really concerned we can ask about a scratch test.”

“But you,” was all he could get out, voice cracking before his sentence reached completion.

“Us?” Jinwoo asked. He reached out and threaded his hand through Sanha’s hair in just the way he liked. There were some things growing up could never change and the simple pleasure of his hyungs running their hands through his hair was definitely up there. Still though, he couldn’t push away the thought…“You’re worried about one of us developing allergies?”

Wary of his inept voice, Sanha nodded vigorously. What about them? What if one of them was alone, unknowingly munching down on something that’d close up their throat and engulf them in heat? He’d never want any of them to go through that pain and if no one was around…it was too awful a thought to complete.

He startled slightly as someone pulled his hand into theirs. Bin winked at him when Sanha followed the hand up and met his gaze. He hadn’t realized how tightly he was twisting his fingers in the sheet, but his fingers screamed in relief as Bin traced over the angry red sheet imprints lining them.

“It’s really rare that adult-onset allergies are this severe, and it’s not even that common to develop food-based allergies as an adult,” Jinwoo soothed, hand still in Sanha’s hair. Between him and Bin, Sanha felt his heart settle a bit. Everyone was here, perfectly okay. It was never fun being in the hospital, but he’d always rather it be him over any of his hyungs any day.

“We can ask about getting scratch tests for all of us, if you’re worried,” Myungjun offered.

Sanha nodded, pulling some lopsided facsimile of a smile onto his numb face. Hopefully they chalked it’s half-heartedness down to the anesthesia and not the fear that still lingered in his mind, seeping through their reassurances. No matter how much they tested, and he could really only ask for so much before they’d refuse to indulge his childishness, they could never be sure. The last bite could be any bite. They’d never know. They could never prepare. Any one of them could die.

Just like he almost did.

“Sanha?”

Just like how he almost died in a backstage bathroom, scared and consumed with pain and confusion.

“Sanha, you need to slow down your breathing.”

Just like that.

“He’s not responding. Why isn’t he responding?”

“Should I get a doctor?”

He almost died today. No more hyungs, no more Astro. No more Aroha. Maybe he’d get to watch it all from above or maybe it’d be dark and lonely or maybe there’d be nothing at all, but what matters was how close he came to losing it all.

He choked on a sob as his mind helpfully played out a blow-by-blow of the build up, the way he’d gotten up from the table without a backward glance, rushing to get away and hide, not knowing he might never see them again. If Dongmin hadn’t come looking, if they hadn’t been on a filming schedule, if if if—

“Yoon Sanha!”

Hands of steel crushed his arms, jostling him forward and backward. Minhyuk’s face was inches from his own, wide eyes buried under the furrow of his thick brow.

Sanha burst into tears. 

If not this time, then what about the next? They had snacks and drinks all the time on variety shows. Tours were serviced by outside caterers and craft service tables were a jumble at best. How could he possibly keep track? How could he keep safe? Would this sap the fun out of it all, constantly making him hesitant and wary when he should be excited and eager? Fearful when he should be busy living?

A small body pressed alongside his, whispering near his ear. “Oh, our poor baby. Let it out, it’s alright, we’re here. Hyung is here.”

He turned into Myungjun’s shoulder, trying to will away his tears to no avail. There were hands, warm and firm, rubbing along his arms and legs. Platitudes sprinkled in from every direction. He soaked them up like a dying plant soaking up a fresh rain.

“’M sorry,” he mumbled. His mouth was less numb, but that only made the thick sensation of phlegm in his nose and throat all the more disgusting. Crying was the worst.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jinwoo said. Sanha opened his eyes, peeking over Myungjun, who had apparently wedged himself in the bed, to stare at their leader. Even though the stray curls of Myungjun’s hair hanging in his vision, Sanha could see Jinwoo smiling at him. It wasn’t one of his big, bright smiles, the ones that turned his eyes into upside down crescents and made giggles spill out of Sanha’s mouth. This was something softer, something Sanha could lean on and pull around him like a blanket. Keeping Sanha’s gaze, he continued, “It’s a lot for sure, but you’re not alone. We’ll get all the information we can from the doctor, signs to look for, how to be prepared. Epi-pens everywhere. We’ll all learn to use them. We’ll make sure all the staff members know and we’ll double check every time there’s food or beverages on a site. It’s a lot for one person, baby, but we’re six. We’ve got your back.”

“Always,” Minhyuk echoed. Sanha glanced around at his team, clustered around his hospital bed, guarding him from the outside world until he was ready. Their managers were probably just out the door too, ready to guide them with their usual strength and kindness. He wasn’t alone.

“But what about the show?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dongmin insisted. “We can re-film. A different game this time.”

“Besides,” Myungjun said, pulling back to stare at Sanha, “you were way off. You wrote down kimchi, crossed it out and wrote chili sauce. You had asparagus, idiot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments & kudos mean the world to me >.< Stay healthy and safe, everyone!


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